After the Storm
by Nintendian
Summary: You would know a real angel if you saw one. - Anthea, Concordia, & N.


_Author's Notes: These three are the perfect family, even though they're not actually real siblings. They just have that strong bond, ya know? I feel like they didn't have the greatest childhood, being adopted by Ghetsis and whatnot. But they're so adorable as kids! :) Anyway, hope you enjoy this, and feedback is appreciated._

_I don't own Pokémon._

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**after the storm **— _the sun is shining._

* * *

Her first memory was being dumped into another woman's arms. Just a baby screaming and bawling, as her mother ran away with her father to unknown lands where she'd never see either of them again. Anthea screamed and screamed until the first slap came, stinging across her cheeks, and that's when she first learned not to cry.

She spent the first few years of her life huddled up in the corner of the orphanage playroom, tears budding up in her eyes, refusing to talk to or make eye contact with any of the other little kids. She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her skinny, pale arms around her legs, watching the others play. The grown-ups gave her condoling looks, but she didn't _want _pity. That made her cry even harder, because they treated her like she was some kind of weak, helpless little girl.

Little Anthea would refuse to speak a single word, even when the adults asked her name. She just cried and cried. "She had a rough childhood," the grown-ups would whisper to each other, and they offered her sympathetic glances and caring smiles. She appreciated everything they did to help her fit in with the other kids, but she just never could.

That is, unless she met _him_.

The direction of her whole life changed at age of six, under the peaceful shadow of a willow tree on the hill. The soft breeze ruffled her pink hair as she sat cross-legged and let her fingers run through the silky green grass. Her new blue dress fluttered in the wind. It wasn't exactly new, as someone had donated it to charity and somehow it had ended up in her hands. Even though it was used, it was still pretty. It had white bows and was made of a shimmering blue fabric, like water, that would be the closest thing to silk she would ever feel.

"I like your dress today, Anthea," her best friend, Concordia, said with a smile. The talkative and cheerful blond girl was the only one who was willing to spend time with reticent Anthea. Even though she kept quiet and never said anything, Concordia didn't seem to mind, and continued to stay by Anthea's side. She was grateful for that.

As usual, Anthea didn't say anything, only offered Concordia a shy smile as thanks.

The other little girl stretched and stood up. "Do you mind if I go down and play?" She hesitated. "But if you don't want me to, I'm perfectly fine spending time with you."

_No, it's okay. _The rose-haired girl nodded and gesticulated over to the rest of the kids, letting Concordia know she could leave.

"Thanks, Anthea!" Concordia gave her a quick hug and skipped down the hill to play. Although Anthea didn't mind listening to her friend's constant talking—it was actually rather emollient—she was glad for the peace and quiet. She did admire the blond girl's optimism and boldness compared to her own timidity, though.

She sat by herself for several minutes, watching the graceful Tranquill soaring through the sky and the Patrat scampering among the bushes. But then a rustle in front of Anthea made her look up, and gawk at what she saw. A small, thin boy with tea green hair stood in front of her. Besides Concordia, not many people approached her willingly. At the time, she had no idea he would be the blessing that changed her life.

"What's your name?" he asked softly, and that was when Anthea first knew he was different from all the other boys her age, with their restless manners, their scuffling and shoving each other into the sand when they played.

That was when she broke her code of silence and spoke her first word in several years. "Anthea," she said. She didn't know why; there was something about this boy's gentle manner and kind smile that prompted her to speak. Her voice sounded strange even to her, perhaps from underuse.

"That's a pretty name." They fell silent for a while, watching the breeze stir the leaves around, casting dappled shadows on the ground. It was peaceful, and little Anthea had never quite felt anything like this before. A snapshot of a perfectly halcyon moment, of Jack and Jill up on the hill, one that would linger in her memories for years to come. "My name is N."

"N? Like…"

"Just N," he replied simply.

She looked up, and finally found the courage to meet his eyes. They were a gentle gray—everything about this strange boy seemed to be delicate—and filled with a quiet sense of maturity of a much older boy that not even the grown-ups possessed. When she looked into them, she suddenly felt like telling him more about herself. "Guess what? My best friend is Concordia. She's over there, playing with her other friends."

"Why aren't you?"

The question caught her off guard. Surprised, she thought about it for a little while, aware of N intently watching her. "I-I don't know. I guess I just like it here. It's quieter."

N just continued gaze at her for a minute or two, regarding her with those eyes. Then he smiled. "I like you. You're different from all the other kids." And with that, he turned away and began to make his way down the hill to where the rest of the kids were playing. Anthea didn't take her eyes off him. She watched him break up a fight between two screaming, kicking little boys who were having a tug-of-war with a toy truck. She saw the way he dug through the pile of toys and pulled out a plastic car, handing it to one of the boys so that the pair could go "vroom, vroom" together.

N reached out his arm for fluttering Pidove to land on, and tossed crumbs, from the meager loaf of bread that he had for lunch, to stray Purrloin.

And that was when Anthea knew she was in the presence of an angel.


End file.
